


Jisung Park’s Guide to Writing Your Coming-Of-Age Love Story Into Existence

by johnshuaa



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst disguised as Humor, Background Relationships, Coming of Age, Humor, Jisung isn't usually loud and demanding he just has A Vision, M/M, Romantic Comedy, The Bay Area High School Experience in a Fic, The Jisung Park Collects Friends Challenge, Tropes Gone Wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29099022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnshuaa/pseuds/johnshuaa
Summary: Jisung is on his search for his rom-com, coming-of-age, young adult movie adaptation story before he graduates high school. With a list of tropes in hand, a list of names in the other, he sets out on making at least one of them into reality.
Relationships: Jung Sungchan/Park Jisung, Ships Added As Updated
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Jisung Park’s Guide to Writing Your Coming-Of-Age Love Story Into Existence

**Author's Note:**

> i call this fic the cynthia yells about being a teenager while simultaneously living through jisung in a fic bc whoop no more senior year :D
> 
> but do enjoy!! it's a lot of fun writing these, more characters to show up as we go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t have a legally blind boyfriend.”
> 
> “I’m your boyfriend?”
> 
> Jisung narrows his eyes at the hockey player. “Stop asking questions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy jisung day!! enjoy :3

When Jisung slams the notebook down on the lunch table, it startles the others to the point that Chenle nearly sends the sandwich in his hand flying (which he thankfully did not), his flinch causing a rain of shredded lettuce in front of him. 

“What the hell was that for—”

“I am a senior, I’m about to turn seventeen, I am going to graduate in less than a typical pregnancy term, and I have not even had my first kiss.” Jisung plops down on the seat with a heavy sigh. “What the _fuck_.”

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” Jaemin blinks at him with a look of disgust (that Jisung knows is an exaggeration. Well. He hopes it’s an exaggeration). “I think you have to think about things like, I don’t know, passing your classes. Getting into college. Watching _Little Women_ with me like you said you would last summer.”

“I’m doing just fine, thank you very much. And we’ll watch it, I swear, I just need to get over my Timothee Chamlawoo hatred phase.” Jisung sheds his backpack and lets it fall to the asphalt with a heavy clunk that luckily isn’t from his Hydroflask in front of him, but probably from his laptop. Oh well. “So anyway, like I said. Seventeen, a soon-to-be high school graduate, having never gone on a date. What kind of life have I even been _leading_?”

“A normal one,” Jaemin quips.

“Shut up.”

“Why’re you so adamant on all that stuff though?” Chenle interrupts. He had brushed off the stray lettuce pieces through the holes of the picnic table, scattering them on the floor like they’ll just rot into the concrete. He likes to argue that the squirrels need veggies, anyway, though Jisung’s not sure if that’s a scientific argument. “It’s not a big deal if you don’t date in high school.”

“ _It’s not a big deal if you don’t date in high school_ —But the flaw in that is what if I _want to_?” 

“Err…”

Jisung tosses his hands up dramatically. “We watch all these movies about teenagers finding the love of their life in high school, yadda yadda yadda. Hilary Duff gets that Chad-looking guy and gets into Princeton. Hailee Steinfield dates the dude who animates an alien short for her,” he huffs. “This is my last chance at that before it’s too late.”

Jaemin and Chenle share a confused glance. Jaemin leans forward on his elbows and props his chin on his palms, eyes narrowing at Jisung. “What I’m hearing is that you have a big elaborate plan already planned out and just want our help to make this fantasy come true.”

“It’s not a fantasy if it’ll work. It is literally fool-proof.”

“Nothing is fool-proof.” Chenle takes a large bite out of his sandwich, and through muffled words, continues, “It’s like a sandwich. You would think everything would stay together because that’s how it’s engineered. All the fillings caught in between two slices of bread. Yet here we are, surrounded by a seance circle of shredded lettuce.”

“That’s because you’re supposed to use a regular piece of lettuce, you heathen.” Jisung finally opens his notebook, noisily flipping through it until he gets to the bookmarked page. 

Jaemin and Chenle lean over and blink at the spread.

“I call it the Jay-peg-why-coal-see,” Jisung states.

“The what now.”

“Jay-peg-why-coal-see.” Jisung’s finger follows each letter of the acronym in bold marker across the page. “JPGWYCOALSIE. Jisung Park’s Guide to Writing Your Coming-Of-Age Love Story Into Existence.”

“That’s kind of a mouthful,” Jaemin comments.

“It’s part of the charm.” Jisung flips to the following page, where, in chicken scrawl, he has everything listed out in surprisingly neat columns, colorful lines connecting several bullet points. “There’s a Plan A, all the way to T. I’m hoping we don’t have to get anywhere past Plan L, though. I just started making things up from there onward.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Chenle taps at the green circle where said Plan L is written in. “The chances that you’ll start a zombie apocalypse and fall in love with the dude who saves you from a mob with a getaway car that runs out of gas just as you’re getting chased through a forest is very plausible.”

Jisung slaps at Chenle’s arm, who whines an _ow!_ in response. “That’s why it’s Plan L, okay?”

“I guess there’s no harm in carrying this out,” Jaemin says. Bless him for being on Jisung’s side. “Though I think this is absolutely bull.”

Fuck Jaemin Na, Jisung needs to get some new friends.

“Whatever. We’re starting with Plan A.” Jisung dives into his bag on the ground to procure the first writing instrument he gets his hands on, a bright green highlighter. He scribbles a star next to the plan and smiles satisfactorily at it. 

It’s fool-proof, he reminds himself. This will work out in some way, shape, or form, and he’ll graduate happy, living out his rom-com dreams for at least a couple of weeks. It will work. Eventually.

  
  


The ice rink is far colder than Jisung anticipated. He should have predicted this, however, considering he lives in the Bay Area, where temperatures only fluctuate from sixty to eighty degrees Fahrenheit, and he starts to freeze the moment the thermometer reads fifty-nine.

“You’re kind of dumb,” Chenle says, giving him the side-eye as he crosses his arms and shivers. “Who wears only a T-shirt to an ice rink?”

“I left my hoodie in Jaemin’s car because he had the heater blasting on high!” Jisung can almost imagine the telltale red hoodie sitting in the front seat where he had peeled it off because his neck was getting too sweaty. And now here he is, arms covered in goosebumps, stuck in this freezer of a room for the next two hours.

“Well, today is your lucky day,” Chenle sighs, unwrapping the fluffy scarf around his neck and tossing it to Jisung.

Jisung mutters a thanks, and the two cross the doors from the lobby into the actual rink itself. And _holy fuck is it cold_.

Jisung pulls the scarf around his arms like a shawl and he sure looks stupid, but he’d rather not catch a cold. They wander up the seats of the bleachers until they are far away from the majority of the spectators. 

Originally, he had planned to paint on two blue stripes across his cheek along with the red hoodie to make up their school colors. However, Jisung soon realized that he practically knows nothing about hockey, and that it would be too much school spirit. Just because he’s had ample time to attend sports games and school events doesn’t mean he did, and just because it’s his final year of school doesn’t mean he has to pretend to actually care about their school hockey team.

Plus, he’s heard that they have not won a game of hockey in nearly four years. Today seems no different. He doesn’t really want to embarrass himself even more.

The teams burst through the narrow gate into the rink, red-blue uniforms against green-white. Jisung barely spots the one person he’s here for in the mess of players with their bulky gear.

“This better be worth my time,” Chenle mutters, leaning back against the wall since they chose the very corner of the bleachers. He looks like he might just fall into hibernation, nose tinted with a faint blush from the cold. “Though my hopes really aren’t high.”

And indeed… it’s a mess. The game goes on, and their team doesn’t make any goals, while the other would have scored their second point if not for the buzzer calling for the end of the first half. Jisung honestly stopped paying attention unless there was a whistle loud enough to catch him off guard. 

So this isn’t going to plan as well as he had hoped. The whole jock boyfriend thing can’t work out if the jock boyfriend sucks at his sport, right?

Eventually, the game comes to an end, Jisung’s school making zero scores. He had hoped that if they succeeded after so many years of consistent losses, finally, he’d be able to run down there for a victory cheer like it’s the opening of High School Musical 3. 

(Maybe he should have thought it out more. Running onto the ice in tennis shoes will probably break his legs.)

Chenle had actually fallen asleep. Jisung has to shake him awake and pull him down the stairs of the bleachers until they’re outside the locker rooms, waiting for the first name listed on Jisung’s notebook. 

Sungchan Jung walks out first in a baggy bomber jacket tossed over a sweatshirt, hood pulled over his head. Jisung nearly misses him. He has all of his gear hung over his shoulder, which clanks so loudly that Jisung is scared he broke one of the hockey sticks when he intercepted the hockey player.

“Jisung?” Sungchan says with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to watch the game.” Jisung pulls them aside so they aren’t in the way of the locker room doors. “It was cool!”

“We lost. Really badly.”

“Well, I’ve never been to a sports game, so this was definitely an experience. You played really well.”

Sungchan turns pink, and he scratches at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I didn’t play today. Coach benched me.”

The two blink at each other in silence.

“Oh my _god_ , this is a disaster,” Chenle interrupts, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just get this out of the way. Jisung came to find you today.”

Sungchan frowns. “Oh. We haven’t talked much, have we?”

No, not really. Jisung just remembers Sungchan being in Honors Bio and Geometry with him in freshman year, and that was that. He’s surprised Sungchan still remembered his name.

“Jisung’s here for his little jpeg coldstone— _I’m not going to memorize the name, Jisung!_ —plan thing to get himself laid before he graduates.”

“NO THAT IS NOT WHAT IT’S FOR—” Jisung shoves Chenle aside. “I want a nice wholesome relationship so I can feel like I’m part of a Disney Channel reboot of Another Another Another Cinderella Story.”

Sungchan’s eyes shift between the two bickering friends. He seems confused and caught in a crossfire in a battle he never signed up for. “Uhm, can I get a full explanation, by any chance?”

Jisung exhales loudly through his nose, tightening the scarf around his shoulder when the door to the rink opens, releasing a rush of cold air. “It’s a bit complicated.”

Suddenly, Sungchan drops his duffel bag, and it clatters loud enough for the other families idling around the lobby to glance towards them. He sheds his bomber jacket and passes it to Jisung without another word.

And in that moment, when Jisung accepts the jacket and tosses the scarf back at Chenle, he thinks that Plan A might have actually worked, even though it took some unexpected detours. 

  
  


“So you’re trying to copy one of those Disney Channel movies but in real life is what I’m getting from this.”

Jisung shuts his notebook with a satisfied _thump_. “Yup.”

Sungchan picks at his fries without a second thought. “Okay, I guess that makes sense.”

“Seriously?” Chenle frowns at him. “It’s not, at any level, even a bit weird to you?”

“No, not really. I’ve seen worse.”

“I’m sure being on a failure of a hockey team is how you see those things.”

“We’re not that bad!”

“You have literally never won a game—”

“That’s why I play soccer for spring sports season—”

Jaemin groans. He’s been so quiet all lunch that Jisung nearly forgot he was sitting across from him. With each seat of their square lunch table filled, Jisung feels like he’s in the middle of a high-risk mahjong game that he had bet his entire bank account on. Except his opponents include a tired senior who regrets taking both AP Physics and AP Chem this year, a best friend who would probably set Jisung’s notebook on fire to stop him from continuing his extensive plan, and a mediocre hockey player that likes to steal all of their lunches when he drops by. Maybe if Jisung bet all his cash in an imaginary game, he’d have a pretty good chance of winning.

“So are you in or not?” Jaemin cuts in, fingers pressed to his temple. “Preferably, you say yes, and we don’t have to ever let Plan L see the light of day.”

Sungchan quits his glaring contest with Chenle to ask innocently what said Plan L is.

“We’re not going to talk about Plan L, okay Jaemin?” Jisung says through gritted teeth.

Jaemin cackles at that, not bothering to reply as he returns to jotting down notes from his textbook for homework that Jisung is sure was due the previous period. 

“I guess it’ll be a fun senior year project… or whatever,” Sungchan concludes. When he tries to steal a chocolate from Chenle’s bag of emergency sweets, his hand gets slapped away.

“This is only for when you need energy to speed-run work,” Chenle says. “And you are enabling Jisung. You’re not getting a chocolate until you’re fifty.”

Sungchan blinks at him.

So maybe things were going easier than Jisung thought they would. He claps his hands together happily, before standing up and gesturing for Sungchan to follow. They stand side by side, and if there were any passerby students who managed to stumble across this secluded picnic table at the edge of campus to find a kid with a granola bar in his teeth, scrambling to finish some homework, a brooding boy hoarding a bag of chocolates like it’s his lifeline, and two others standing shoulder to shoulder silently… to say it’s a surprise would be an understatement.

“You’re supposed to be taller than me,” Jisung finally states.

“I am.”

“Only be like two inches though.”

“That’s a lot??”

“Not enough,” Jisung deadpans. “It’s fine. You’re still growing. We’ll just have to feed you a bunch of calcium and carrots.”

“What are the carrots for?”

“Eyesight.”

“What does eyesight have to do with me growing taller?”

“I can’t have a legally blind boyfriend.”

“I’m your boyfriend?”

Jisung narrows his eyes at the hockey player. “Stop asking questions.”

“I don’t think you understand the plan,” Chenle says.

“Okay, maybe I wasn’t listening as closely as I could have…”

Jisung sighs. So this will be a challenge like he had thought. Nothing ever goes according to plan for him, anyway.

  
  


It turns out that Sungchan plays the role of hot jock boyfriend pretty badly.

First of all, he’s just about as awkward as Jisung. He’s no Casanova who brings balloons and candies for the hell of it, or someone to stand outside Jisung’s classes to pick him up. Sungchan, every other day, forgets that they had agreed to Jisung’s plan.

Maybe it’s partially Jisung’s fault for not planning things out beyond _having_ a boyfriend. Maybe he should have written a storyline so that things could have more structure. 

But he also thinks that what they have going right now is natural and fun, nonetheless. Sungchan joins them for lunch three times a week, filling the fourth seat of the table like he’s always meant to be there. They talk easily, all of them. Sometimes, they even wander off campus to the nearest donut shop to grab some treats to get them through the rest of the school day.

Sungchan is fun, is what Jisung decides. He’s great to have around, even though he sucks at hockey despite being a senior on varsity, and even though he prefers powdered donuts over jelly-filled (an abomination, really). 

The problem here is this: Sungchan isn’t some Peter Kavinsky, and Jisung isn’t some Lara Jean Covey, and the two aren’t working the way he had hoped they would. Sungchan isn’t around enough for Jisung to catch a bad case of feelings. There’s no drama of a jealous significant other, there’s no ski trip and hot tub, and there’s no love notes. Not that Jisung wanted those in particular. 

And they aren’t popular enough for news of them dating to matter. There’s no pressure for them to stay together or act all cute and snuggly. It’s just by name, they are boyfriends, and honestly, only by name for Jisung. Eighty percent of the time, Sungchan completely forgets the agreement in favor of stealing the cherry tomatoes from Jaemin’s lunch.

JPGWYCOALSIE, it turns out, isn’t foolproof. Jisung doesn’t admit it, because he’ll get an earful from Chenle about _oh, I spent all those hours going to those hockey games just for your fake boyfriend to not play, you know I could have been doing more important things like… homework._

But maybe there’s something else that Jisung doesn’t want to admit, beyond the plan. It’s too early in the year, so hopes are high. Still, the lingering feeling of the _what if_ stays in the pit of his belly and it doesn’t go away.

  
  


Jisung pulls Sungchan aside during passing period, barely catching him in the hallway amidst the flow of students. It’s not hard to spot him when he’s a good nose to head length above the general population. He does like to slouch though. Maybe they should go on a chiropractor date.

Well, no more dates. Not that there were any to begin with.

“Look, Sungchan, I have something to tell you.”

Sungchan nods his head in rhythm. Grooving.

Jisung sighs, pinching the airpod from his ear. 

“I was on the best part of the song—”

Out of pure curiosity, Jisung brings the headphone to his own ear. The high-energy beat of the song starts up again, and is that… 

“Old school Bieber? Really?”

“You just don’t appreciate good music.”

Jisung shakes it off with a judgemental expression before he double taps on the airpod, pausing the music. “I have something important to tell you.”

“Nothing is more important than the fact that ‘Thrift Shop’ is next on the queue, and I won’t be able to fit in the full song before class starts if you keep holding me up.”

Spitefully, Jisung tucks the airpod away in his pocket. “ _Listen to me_.”

Sungchan slouches even more and makes a face.

“We need to break up.”

“Oh, that’s all you were gonna say? Could have just texted me. I reply pretty fast.”

“I literally only have you added on Messenger. I don’t have your number.”

Sungchan scoffs and looks down at his phone, thumb scrolling through his playlist. “Oh. My bad?”

“You suck at being a boyfriend.”

“Sorry…?” Sungchan scrunches his face. “I’ve never been in a legit relationship. I think you just chose the wrong dude for the job.”

Jisung rolls his eyes before handing the airpod back to Sungchan, just as the bell rings, signaling the final five minutes before class. Sungchan plucks it back happily. Why did Jisung think it would be a good idea to date, albeit fake, whose favorite songs consist of ‘Never Say Never’ and mediocre rap?

“It’s fine,” Jisung says, even though it’s not. This is Plan A, and the fact that only about 2 percent of it went accordingly proves that things are a lot harder than he had imagined. “It’s my bad. I think I need to go back to the drawing board and revise some of it.”

“Good luck,” Sungchan says, plugging the airpod back into his ear. Soon enough, his lips are moving to the opening rap of the old Macklemore song and Jisung is pretty sure it’s the wrong lyrics. Before they head their separate ways, Sungchan pipes up, “But just to clear things up, I can still drop by during lunch, right? Jaemin always brings really good spam musubi.”

Oh, Sungchan’s priorities. Jisung sighs. “Of course.”

  
  


With a dark blue marker, Jisung strikes out the words “PLAN A: SUNGCHAN JUNG, HOCKEY PLAYER” in his notebook with a purse of his lips. He supposes it’s good that he prepared several other plausible outcomes. Losing hope is not an option. There are still several months left, and he has a plethora of people to pick from next.

“Fake dating is harder than you think,” Jisung says. “I hate it here.”

“I feel like that’s kind of obvious. I mean, why would you address those letters? She did that to herself with that one,” Chenle says, rolling onto his back on the bed, arms sprawled. “I hate that series. I don’t know why you like it.”

“It’s cute, okay?”

“What’s so cute about miscommunication and a jealousy ploy??”

“What are we addressing letters to?” Sungchan interjects from his spot on the floor. “Who is 'she?'”

“Oh my god, you’ve never watched it?” 

“That’s why I asked??”

Chenle starts laughing almost hysterically. “I hate the movie, but we need to watch it again.”

“I’m serious, who is writing letters?”

Jisung ignores them in favor of studying his notebook. Is it because he didn’t know Sungchan well? Nothing beyond the fact that he nearly flunked out of Geometry? That’s why everything went to shit so quickly?

“I think the best friend neighbor guy didn’t have _any_ right to be mad. It’s against the bro code to date your best friend’s sister,” Chenle states out-of-the-blue.

“For someone who hates the movies so much, you sure have a lot to say about it,” Sungchan comments.

“I’m just pointing things out!”

Jisung traces the back of his pen down the list of names. “Maybe someone closer?” he mumbles to himself. 

And then his eyes dart to the answer. This will do. Jisung’s in AP Stats, and even though he has absolutely no clue what’s going on with standard error and confidence levels, he can tell that Plan B increases the chances of things going right tenfold. He shuts the notebook with a satisfying clap.

Chenle flops back onto his stomach like a fish out of water. At this rate, he’s going to break a spring in the mattress. “Okay, but can we talk about how John Ambrose deserved way better?”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/johnshuaa)  
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/johnshuaa)


End file.
